


Turnabout

by mithrel



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Begging, Blanket Permission, Bondage, Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Podfic Welcome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-11
Updated: 2011-10-11
Packaged: 2017-10-24 13:00:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/263738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mithrel/pseuds/mithrel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Master finds himself in trouble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Turnabout

The Master woke up, and tried to stretch, only to find that he couldn’t. He opened his eyes to find himself handcuffed to the headboard, with his feet tied to the legs of the bed.

The Doctor was standing over him, grinning. In the two weeks they’d been sleeping together, he usually went to the Doctor’s room, since he had the bigger bed, always slipping out before morning.

“What the hell?” He was naked, and all too conscious of that fact. How the Doctor had managed to handcuff him without him waking up was anybody’s guess, but now he was totally at his mercy. The Doctor was grinning in a way that made him very nervous.

“You’re always in control,” the Doctor replied. “It’s time the tables were turned.” He was fully dressed, and the Master knew enough about psychology and intimidation to know he’d probably done it on purpose.

He laughed, to conceal his growing uneasiness. “All right, you’ve made your point, now let me up.”

The Doctor glared at him, a darkness behind his eyes. “I don’t think so. You’re not calling the shots here, I am. And I’m going to make you beg.”

“As if you could!” he sneered, regretting the words as soon as they left his mouth.

“That sounds like a challenge. I accept.”

He had no clue what to expect; the Doctor had never acted like this before. Still, he was vaguely surprised when the Doctor’s palms glided over his face. He closed his eyes as the Doctor traced his cheeks, chin and forehead, and moved behind his ears.

He moved down his neck, and out over his shoulders, along his arms to his hands, and back, his touch only interrupted when he went over the handcuffs. Then he moved down his chest, tweaking his nipples as he went.

That got the first flicker of response from him, a hitch of breath startled out of him before he could stop it. The Doctor smirked and moved down his stomach and sides, ignoring his still-flaccid penis in favor of stroking his hips, around and around. Then he moved down his legs to his feet, and began massaging them.

The Master moaned in shock. This body hadn’t been subjected to such a thorough exploration before, and his response was frankly embarrassing.

The Doctor moved back up his legs and then stood back.

“Is that all you’ve got?” the Master asked, his voice still mostly steady.

“Oh, no,” the Doctor said, velvet promise in his voice. “I haven’t even got started.”

He began again, stroking the Master’s face, this time with fingertips. By the time he was moving out over his arms, the Master was no longer unaffected. As the Doctor’s fingers ran over the inside of his elbow, he gritted his teeth. The Doctor noticed, and did it again on the return pass.

He moved down his neck to his chest, flicking his nipples again. At this point, the Master was breathing hard. Besides driving him crazy with lust, the maddening touch tickled. Not that he would ever tell the Doctor that; he was helpless enough as it was, and wasn’t about to give him another advantage.

He was hard now, but the Doctor ignored his erection, tracing the hollows of his hips with two fingers, then dragging them down his legs to his feet.

The Master gritted his teeth again, but still ended up moaning. The Doctor stayed where he was long enough to make him moan again, then moved back up his legs.

Without pausing, he moved back up to the Master’s face, kissing his eyelids, licking all over his face before settling on his mouth.

It was humiliating how quickly his mouth opened. The Doctor kissed him for quite awhile, then licked around the shell of his right ear and stuck his tongue inside it, then repeated the process with his left ear.

He licked down the column of his throat, sucking at the pulse point, then up the other side, over his Adam’s apple to linger in the hollow of his throat. He kissed his way along his shoulder, leaving a trail of cold air in his wake, and down his arm, tonguing the insides of his elbow and wrist.

When the Doctor reached his hand, he kissed the palm, then sucked his index finger into his mouth. He sucked on it for a long while, swirling his tongue around it, then moved to his middle finger, ring finger, little finger and thumb.

The Master was nearly incoherent at this point. He was so hard he ached, and he wanted the Doctor’s mouth on him more than anything, but he clung stubbornly to his pride and refused to beg.

Seemingly tired of fellating his fingers, the Doctor moved back up his arm, swiping his tongue at the pulse point of his wrist, and sucking at the inside of his elbow. The Doctor ran his tongue across his collarbones, and down his other arm, down to his hand, spending just as much time on that side, devoting his attention wholly to each finger in turn.

He moved back up, and to the Master’s chest. He tensed in anticipation, and when the Doctor’s teeth closed over his left nipple, he arched up.

The Doctor pushed him down again, and continued, soothing away the sting he had created. Then he moved over to the right nipple and sucked at it for some time.

He moved down the center of his chest, to the navel. No matter how he squirmed, he refused to move lower, merely lapping at the indentation until Master thought he would scream.

Then he felt hot breath on his erection, which twitched. He looked down to see the Doctor’s mouth, so close, but not close enough.

“I’ll do it, you know,” he said softly, his breath ghosting across the Master’s flesh. “All you have to do is ask.”

The Master wanted to, more than anything, but something, some last remaining shred of his dignity, kept him from doing it.

The Doctor blew out a breath, and the Master decided his pride could take a long walk. “Please!”

Still he didn’t relent. “Please what?” The Master stayed silent. “What do you want?”

“Suck me, fuck me, anything, just for God’s sake, do _something!_ ”

Abruptly, hot suction engulfed him to the root, and he arched off the bed with a scream. In only a few moments, he was coming down the Doctor’s throat, nearly blacking out from the force of the long-denied orgasm.

The Doctor pulled back when it was over, pulled something out of his pocket, and disrobed more quickly than the Master would have credited.

He unscrewed the cap on the lube, and began to prepare him, but was evidently growing impatient himself. After only a short time, he thrust into him, and the Master clawed at his back.

The Doctor didn’t last any longer than he had, coming with a strangled moan, and collapsed on top of him.

He lay there for a moment, until the Master shifted underneath him. “Are you going to let me up, now?”

“Oh, sorry,” he said in embarrassment, climbing off him, and going to his clothes for the key. He unlocked the handcuffs, and the Master sat up and removed the cords from around his ankles.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

The Master rolled his eyes. So much for dominance. “No, but a little warning would have been nice.”

“That would have rather diminished the effect,” the Doctor pointed out.

The Master grunted acknowledgement. “God, I need a shower.” He looked speculatively at the Doctor. “Care to join me?”

“Do you even need to ask?” the Doctor inquired, and followed him out of the room.


End file.
